Wolf
by PurplePatchwork
Summary: You all know the story: girl meets wolf, wolf dresses up as grandmother, wolf eats girl. Inspired, Elizabeta tries to discover the wolf in her own life. On the way she meets Gilbert, a peculiar boy who joins her on her quest. But as the two grow up, they realise not every wolf has grey fur and sharp teeth.


**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

This is a story about growing up and discovery, about metaphors and intimacy. About the question: who (or what) is the big bad wolf?

~o~

_Who is afraid of the big bad wolf?_

A fairy tale. A silly little nursery rhyme. A warning for children, for the innocent and pure.

Do not stray from the path.

Do not pick the forbidden fruit, disguised as flowers and tempting delicacies.

Do not speak to the wolf.

He would be a seducer. A charmer. Sweet-talking naïve little girls into his bed, stroking their egos and unexperienced pride. He would be the advocate of the devil, bringing forth the greatest sin and corruption. Tall and handsome, with a silky voice and eyes to drown in.

Dangerous, oh so dangerous.

Yet oh so tempting.

So when Elizabeta was sent down the same path, did she stray from it?

Of course she did.

The girl was no coward after all. When her head was filled with all those stories and warnings, how could she not go out and search for the source? See for herself how much of it was true, and if it was, if she could resist.

_Who is afraid of the big bad wolf?_

"Not me," the girl spoke, gripping her basket tight in her small hands. She was young, oh so young. Nearly grown out of her diapers as a matter of speech, but having to walk this path because her mother was ill and couldn't do it herself. She trusted her daughter, knew the girl would make it to grandmother's house safe and sound. And that she did.

Elizabeta walked through those forests for hours upon hours upon hours, looking behind trees, straying as far from the path as she could, picking up rocks and walking through beds of flowers. The wolf didn't show up.

"Hey wolf! Are you there? Come and get meeeeeeeeeeee!" Elizabeta yelled, but no one came.

Sulking, she continued on her way. Nothing happened. She reached her grandmother's house, and that was that. The wolf had been a fairy tale after all.

"What's eating you, Lizzy? You look so glum."

"Nothing…"

Elizabeta couldn't sleep that night. She kept rolling around, restless and disappointed. After an hour of fidgeting, she finally realised she wasn't going to fall asleep like that. Quietly, the girl climbed out of her bed and tip-toed through the house, sneaking outside for a moment to gaze at the stars. Seeing those trees and flowers again, the girl frowned.

"Stupid wolf! I hate you!" She picked up a rock and threw it.

"Oow!"

Elizabeta froze. Either she had fallen asleep after all and was dreaming right now, or someone was hiding in the rose bushes. With a few swift strides she walked over to the piece of greenery, and began digging through the branches.

"Hey! Stop that!"

Finally, the figure of a boy was revealed. He had snow white hair, a pale skin, and eyes the colour of blood. These startling features did not faze the girl.

"What are you doing in there?"

"Hiding. Can't you tell?" the boy grumbled, rubbing at the spot where Lizzy's rock had met his skull.

"Why?"

He paused and slowly looked up. "Because people are afraid of me. They say my eyes scare them."

Elizabeta had to laugh at that, a loud and free noise. "People are stupid! You're just a kid, right? No one should be afraid of a kid!"

He didn't respond. Elizabeta helped him out of the bush to get a proper look at him.

"You know, you still have to say sorry for hitting me with that rock," the boy said, feeling uncomfortable under her piercing gaze.

"Why? It's not like I wanted to hit you."

At that he frowned. And consequently punched her in the face.

"What the—what'd you do that for?" Elizabeta screamed.

"Sorry. 'It's not like I wanted to hit you,'" the boy said, grinning mockingly as he gave an exaggerated imitation of her voice.

She would have none of that. Soon, the children were tangled up in a rowdy wrestle match.

"Stop hitting like a dude!"

"If you stop hitting like a girl!"

They punched and kicked and scratched and bit, not caring about the bruises and cuts. But their energy was quickly drained, seeing as it was already late at night. Pretty soon, they both lay splayed across the damp earth, panting heavily.

"You know, you're not that bad. For a chick."

Elizabeta huffed. "And you're not that bad either…for a chick."

He rolled his eyes and let out a strange laugh, something that reminded Lizzy of a demented snake. "What were you doing out here anyway? Isn't it way past your bedtime?" he then inquired.

"I could ask you the same. But I guess I'll tell you, since I'm so nice."

"Can it, miss I'm-better-than-you."

"I was looking for the wolf."

"What wolf?"

She rolled onto her side to gape at the other. "You know, _the_ wolf! The one from the stories?"

He snickered. "You mean you actually believe that stuff? And what would you do if you'd find him? Isn't he supposed to be bad news?"

"And what do you know about it huh?!" she huffed defiantly. "You ever met him?"

"No." A short pause. "But I guess I'd like to try it too. Since I am awesome and stuff. Can't have a girl beat me to meeting the famous big bad wolf!"

"What are you trying to say, Mister Awesome?"

He grinned widely, liking the sound of that very much. "Next time you go looking for him, let me come too!"

"No way."

He cackled in that weird way of his again, and got up. "Yes way! You'll totally need my help if you ever want to slay the fury beast! And we'll share the fame and fortune, of course."

Elizabeta frowned up at him, thinking to herself that she'd never met a stranger boy.

"Have to go now. Later chick!"

"The name's Elizabeta!" she shouted after him, watching his figure rapidly grow smaller in the moonlit darkness.

"And mine's Gilbert, so don't you forget!"

~o~

She did not meet the big bad wolf that year. Nor the year after that, nor the next one. She did learn more about Gilbert though.

Every single time Elizabeta went out to search for the legendary creature, he would be there, waiting for her. As if they had made a secret calendar, and instinctively knew the important dates from the others. They both strayed from the path, growing bolder as the years went by. No wolf. Only Gilbert.

She learnt that Gilbert had a strange affinity for birds. He owned a pet chick named Gilbird (surprise surprise). She learnt that he could stand the smell and sight of blood, but that he was bad with little pains like a broken fingernail or a stubbed toe. She learnt they were the same age, they were equally competitive and foul-mouthed, and that Gilbert was actually proud of his inhuman eye colour.

Year after year they kept meeting up that way, sometimes seeing each other every day, sometimes going weeks without. Never asking why or how, simply going with the flow. Talking, searching, but never finding. They became friends without ever saying they were. Bickering and teasing, but trusting the other would always be there. Content with the way things were.

This went on until Elizabeta turned twelve. Lately, she hadn't been feeling all that well. There was a dull aching in her stomach, and her chest had started swelling. She hoped she wasn't getting sick. The sudden mood swings didn't help either. One moment she could be as happy as a clam, the next she would be hating everyone and everything. It was on one of those days that Elizabeta went out into the woods again, after finishing up her chores and helping with the preparations for dinner. Her mother had told her not to stay out too long, and Elizabeta had promised her to be back as soon as possible.

"Yo Lizzy!"

She looked up at the figure casually sauntering over to where she stood leaning against a tree. They had both grown bigger since the first meeting, taller and more in the right proportions of an adult human being. They were far from ready to count themselves among those adults, but no longer the children they had been. Gilbert's hair was still messy however, his grin wide and boisterous, and his eyes fierce and intense.

"Long time no see! You've grown again?"

It was true for her as well. Where Gilbert had been taller than her, a sudden grow spurt on Lizzy's side made the opposite reality. Still, today she was in no mood for catching up.

"Don't mention it. Come on Gil, we have a wolf to slay!"

He raised an eyebrow at her curt behaviour, but followed nonetheless. An hour later, they were still very much wolf-less. But Elizabeta was feeling especially uncomfortable. The stomach-ache had come back, but with twice as much vigour it seemed.

"Lizzy? Are you all right?"

Crimson jewels studied her, a concerned frown tugging at his lips. The girl promptly decided she didn't like that look combined with his face.

"No, it's nothing," she quickly tried to reassure him. "It's just that I've been having some pain in my stomach lately, but nothing too bad. It'll probably be over soon—ah!"

Without further warning, she suddenly grew quiet, eyes the size of watermelons.

"Lizzy? What's wrong? You're starting to freak me out."

Her hands shot to her stomach, or rather the area below it. A weird sensation had just disrupted her thoughts. She blushed, instinctively knowing this was something she couldn't tell Gilbert. She had to go home. Asap.

"Enough wolf hunting for today Gil. I'm going back."

His confusion grew as she spun on her heels and began marching back, alarmed by another warm pull at her insides.

"Lizzy, talk to me! What's going on? Are you hurt? Are you sick?"

"No…at least, I don't think so…"

She had a vague idea of what it was. But only a vague one, as such topics were avoided at her home. As if it was a sin just to think about it, let alone discuss the matter.

She didn't want it to be true. Wasn't ready for it. She was confused and tired, head overflowing with all the unfamiliar sensations. She needed answers.

_Who is afraid of the big bad wolf?_

Gilbert stepped in front of her, frowning harshly.

"Get out of the way Gil," Lizzy snapped impatiently, hand still clutching her belly.

"No. Not before you tell me what's going on."

She hesitated, worried her lip. Gilbert might have been a guy, but he was still her friend. Best friend. Perhaps her only friend.

"…I think I am bleeding…"

His eyes widened, before narrowing.

"Where? Where are you hurt, Lizzy?"

His hands roamed her body, searching for the offending wound. She quickly stepped back, shuddering as her insides squeezed together again.

"No, you don't understand! I'm not hurt, I'm just…bleeding."

He tilted his head to the side, almost looking angry at being left in the dark. "You're right Liz. I don't understand. So why don't you tell me what's wrong? How can you be bleeding without being hurt?"

She blushed heavily, not at all happy at having to explain this to her friend. Not that she could all that well, for she didn't know the gist of it either.

"I'm…bleeding. Down there."

"Down where—?" His words evaporated into thin air as he looked down. Then he froze. Both literally and mentally.

Error.

"Gilbert!"

He didn't look back as he ran, ran away as fast as his legs could carry him, brain showing nothing but white noise, leaving her all, all alone in the big scary woods.

_Who is afraid of the big bad wolf?_

~o~

She didn't see him for a long time after that. Elizabeta kept going into the woods, hoping he'd be waiting for her, but alas.

Her body was changing. It was only after that first bleeding that her mother sat down and talked with her about all that was going on. She was becoming a woman now.

Woman. How she hated that word. It didn't fit her in the slightest.

Dragging herself through the changes, weeks turned to months, and months turned to years. And all that time, no sign of Gilbert. The wolf hunt was forgotten as well. It just didn't make any sense without him. And she was quite certain now that he'd never existed.

_Let the fairy tale be just that, a tale. A story to keep your children from asking questions._

Growing up was like getting punched in the face. Oh, how Lizzy missed the fights and bickering. Longed back for those days, when everything was easier.

Then one evening, he suddenly appeared again.

Like a thief in the night, he snuck into her house, showing up in her bedroom without a warning.

"Hey Lizzy."

She snapped her head back so fast it might have given her a whiplash. It certainly felt like it did, as her eyes did not want to register the boy leaning against her doorpost.

Gilbert had grown again. No longer a child, but a young teenager. He had grown taller than her this time, and had lost most of his childish fat. He hadn't hit puberty quite yet, still keeping some of that boyishness, but Elizabeta didn't focus on that. All she could see were those piercing eyes and that cocky grin, although it looked slightly strained at the moment.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, knowing her mother would not agree with her being alone with a boy, in her bedroom of all places. No, she was too "woman" now.

"I came to tell you I'm sorry," he said, getting right to the point. His grin deflated completely as he got serious. "I shouldn't have run away. But I was afraid. You're the only girl I've ever hung out with, and it was just a bit too much to take in that moment."

Actually, Lizzy could have predicted his behaviour that day. Or not predicted, as she was a bit out of it herself back then. But she understood now. For she was indeed the only girl in his life. No sisters, no aunts, no nice grandmothers, and definitely no mother. Gilbert had told her he lived alone with his uncle, both his parents dead before the first thing he could remember. He had no idea what to expect from hanging out with a girl.

Still, she didn't want to forgive him just yet.

"I thought you were Mister Awesome?" Elizabeta sulked, getting back to folding clothes. "A knight in shining armours, and a warrior?"

"Even warriors get scared sometimes."

She paused, letting a shirt fall back onto the messy pile. Her green eyes met the red ones of Gilbert, and the words fell from her lips before she knew it.

"Who is afraid of the big bad wolf?"

He chuckled. "Still the same old dude, huh? No idea why I ever thought you would've changed."

She smirked. "You haven't changed either, Gil."

And just like that, they were friends again. All those lost years gone in a flash, never even existed. They stayed up for hours that night, just talking and catching up, Gil hiding under the bed every time her mother came to check on her, the both of them laughing breathlessly as soon as she left again.

"I missed you, Gil. I missed this."

"I know. And I'm sorry. Next time I leave for a longer period, I'll give you a heads-up."

She frowned. "What do you mean, next time?"

He shook his head. "I'll tell you later."

Neither of them slept that night. It felt nice, this. This talking, this being together, this feeling happy. Elizabeta found it a pity when he had to leave again.

"Can we go hunting tomorrow? You know, just like old times."

He grinned. "I'd love that, Lizzy."

And so they met up in the forest the next day. And the day after that, and the day after that. Wasting their time away, just like they always had. Only, it was slightly different. Still relaxed, still comfortable, but different nonetheless.

They didn't play around in the mud anymore. No more wrestling. Gilbert didn't show it, but Elizabeta felt like he was treating her as if she were a fragile porcelain doll, worrying she would crack. Still afraid of the discovery that she was a girl after all, that she was somehow different because her body was different.

Elizabeta made up for that by suddenly, without a single warning, punching him full in the face.

"What the fuck'd you do that for?!"

"I want to see if you still hit like a girl," she teased, climbing on top of him. For a short moment, it looked like he was going to push her off, give her a disapproving glare, say something along the lines off "Don't be silly, Liz. You're a girl, and girls don't fight like this." But he didn't. All he did was grin that cocky grin of his, and accept the challenge head-on.

That afternoon, there in the forest on the ground, she felt free. Free of confines, of prejudice, of gender roles and responsibilities. Just having a good time with her best friend, her fellow wolf hunter. Living the dream, escaping reality.

She laughed loudly, letting the sounds flow out of her, unabashed and unashamed. He sounded like a drunk snake again as he rolled on top of her and pinned her to the ground, claiming victory. They wished it could always be liked this, free and without worries.

Too bad life isn't a fairy tale, and sooner or later, you have to wake up.

Gilbert left again, for several years this time. Gone to visit family in Germany. But he kept his promise, notifying Elizabeta before he went, and writing her letters while he was away. They were silly little things, really. Meaningless notes about dinner and the weather. Yet Elizabeta treasured them, clung to them as she her mother made her read boring books and kept her away from the forest, trying to make her daughter "an educated person". It didn't fit for a lady to go strolling through the woods all day long, and certainly didn't fit to have her read children's stories. Elizabeta could often be found sitting by the window, restless and wistful. She had too much energy, and no output. Her only escape were the letters, and the fairy tales. Before she knew it, she found herself writing some things down of her own. Thoughts, wishes, dreams. All the things she wouldn't have, if it were up to her mother. A spirit. A voice. A life.

One day, her mother made an arrangement for her to meet up with somebody. She met Roderich, and they talked for a bit, and when Lizzy's mother asked him what she found of him, she answered with "He's nice." Later, she heard they were engaged. Without her permission.

No matter how hard she screamed or fought or argued, her mother's decision was made. It wasn't that she disliked Roderich, but she was still so young, had never even been in love before. How could she get married without seeing the world, without discovering her place in the whole system of living?

All that didn't matter to her mother. The decision was final. All she could do was surrender.

_Who is afraid of the big bad wolf?_

~o~

Gilbert had grown. Again. And in a funny way, this time.

His voice sounded hoarse, he looked too skinny and almost stretched, his arms too long, dangling by his hips as his shoulders were permanently hunched. There were zits on his face and a hint of stubble on his cheek. It made him look odd, half-formed. Stuck between childhood and adulthood.

She on the other hand had become quite a lady. Not entirely refined, as her mother would never be able to take away her energy, but a lady still. She had long since swapped her comfortable outfits for dresses, and her nails were no longer black with dirt. She had accepted her life as a woman, but still fought every day to keep her individuality. Wanting to make sure Gilbert would still recognize her if they met again.

"You look…good."

Elizabeta made a short bow, but smiled to show she was exactly the same girl he had met in the woods so long ago.

They went out for a stroll again. The same path, the same trees, the same conversation.

"Still haven't found him?" Gilbert asked, stopping to pick a flower and casually placing it in her hair.

She shook her head, silently thanking him for the gift. "The bastard's still hiding. Or maybe he only shows himself to children, and we already missed our chance."

"Always the dreamer," he mused. "Or maybe it's just my awesome presence scaring him away."

She playfully elbowed him, and he yelped. "You still hit like a dude, Liz."

"And you still cry like a chick," she laughed.

He shoved her, and she shoved him back, and soon proper manners were forgotten as they were on the ground—again.

But this time it was different. Last time they'd been in this position, it had been playful and relaxed, without any further meaning. Now, as they were both panting, Gilbert holding the girl down, they looked at each other with new eyes.

It was that day all over again, as Gilbert's gaze fell upon her bosom and she could feel him freeze. A strange rush of excitement shot through her, knowing she was the one instigating this behaviour, causing the other to feel insecure.

Without giving her actions any second thought, she took hold of his hand and guided it to her breast.

"What are you—"

He grew silent as she pushed his hand inside her dress, letting him cup her breast, touch her, feel her. Direct contact, naked flesh to naked flesh.

His ears were the same colour as his eyes, and his mouth hung slightly agape. Confused, surprised, _aroused_. She knew he was by the darkening of his blazing orbs, knew it was true when he hungrily captured her lips in a rough kiss—their first kiss. It was hesitant and passionate all the same, trying and tasting, an attempt at satisfying curiosity. Boys hit puberty at a later age than girls after all, so Elizabeta had already experimented more with these intense feelings. Not that she'd ever done anything like this before, but she decided to take the lead.

Lizzy took the initiative to deepen the kiss, forcefully entering his mouth with her tongue. He tried desperately to follow her lead, poking around with the muscle, moaning as he felt himself drowning in sensations. She didn't intend on having sex with him, but there was still a burning curiosity she simply had to feed.

She felt the bulge rubbing against her leg, and promptly switched positions. Releasing the other from that suffocating kiss, she pushed Gilbert into a sitting position against a tree.

"Lizzy…" he whispered, eyes big and questioning, still having that mixture of bewildered confusion and nervous excitement.

"Shh. Don't say anything."

She pulled his pants down just enough for his erection to be released into the open. He gasped as she took a firm hold of it, knowing her mother would kill her if she ever were to find out. The girl began pumping at a steady rate, relishing in the surge of power when a pathetic moan escaped his lips. He could do nothing but buck up into her hand, that once defiantly proud boy becoming putty in her hands. She knew perfectly well this wasn't how a lady ought to behave, especially not with her being engaged. But right now, she couldn't care less.

He leant against her shoulder, breath coming out in funny pants. It seemed peculiar to her that this should happen in the forest of all places, that once magical hangout where a wolf was said to roam. No wolves were out today, only two teenagers, far from children, but still not quite adults. Maybe this was a last act of youth Lizzy wanted to succumb to, before having to marry and grow up. Maybe it was her way of dealing with fear. She didn't want to think about.

All she could feel was a wave of euphoria as Gilbert let out a strangled cry, body spasming as he spilt himself into her hand. With awe and fascination she watched his face contort, felt that strange hot substance flow out of him. She felt free again, free to do as she pleased, free and powerful. It wasn't exactly that she loved Gilbert in that way, but it felt right doing this with him. One last time.

"Thank you," she whispered, as he gazed up at her with glassy eyes.

They didn't speak of it again after that, as Gilbert didn't stay long this time. As if they both knew it would only make things more difficult by putting them into words.

But Gilbert had to leave again, and Elizabeta had to accept her fate. They didn't even share a goodbye kiss as he disappeared, for many years this time. Sent away to serve in the army. His own forced way of growing up.

_Who is afraid of the big bad wolf?_

~o~

She got married to Roderich. She had two children. She felt caged.

The wolf in her life still hadn't shown up, and it was starting to drive her crazy. What if she never met him, just withering away until there was nothing left but a long-forgotten dream and childish hopes? It would kill her to die like that, ironically enough.

Elizabeta kept writing to Gilbert. No matter what happened, her fellow wolf-hunter was not forgotten. And he didn't forget her either, writing back diligently. She could tell by his letters that he too was leaving puberty behind, becoming an adult. He had less time for teasing and idle chitchat, less time for boasting and fun. There was a war going on, and it meant business.

Elizabeta never showed it to her husband, but she longed for her childhood friend. Yearned for it, desired to see his face again. The image was already fraying at the edges, outdated and grey. What would he look like now? Did he turn out handsome, had he lost his ego? Did he still remember the big bad wolf? Had he met him, out on the battlefield? Stared right into his eyes, knowing there was no escape?

She should feel embarrassed for still thinking about it. But it was the only thing that kept her going, made her smile pleasantly when Roderich asked her if something was wrong, slipped into the bedtime stories she told to her son and daughter.

And one night, when she had a dream about wolves and forests and full moons, she finally realised how much that red-eyed child meant to her. He was her soulmate, her best friend, the only one who could make her laugh. The only person who she lived for. True, she loved Roderich as well, and wouldn't even hesitate to die for her children. But Gilbert… If it weren't for him, she couldn't have made it this far. Her partner in crime, her rival, the one she thought about whenever her mother had brought her down. The one she longed to see again.

And when she finally did, she understood even more.

After all those years, he had finally grown up to be a man. Gone were the blemishes, gone were the boyish features. Gone was the youthful innocence. Before her stood a man, sturdy and proud, yet still exactly the same. Eyes sparked with recognition as they discovered the similarities; that one cut in his eyebrow from where he had hurt himself on a sharp stick, his jawline, his eyes, his hair, his hands, and most importantly, that weird laugh of his, like a demented snake.

"Hey Lizzy."

She didn't hesitate to sneak away with him the night he came back, silently, when everyone was asleep. They walked deep into the forest, voices low and gazes hooded, touching, caressing, admiring, allowing themselves to map out the differences, allowing themselves to remember their last meeting.

They made love under the starlit sky that night, without regrets, without doubt. He wasn't her first, but it felt like rediscovering herself, finally letting the energy flow again, finally having an outlet for her passion.

And finally, after all those years, she understood.

_Who is afraid of the big bad wolf?_

The wolf was no advocate of the devil, nor was he a forbidden fruit. He was simply a part of life, of growing up. Something her mother would never understand, as she had never allowed herself to live. To make her own decisions. To have a voice.

_Who is afraid of the big bad wolf?_

She certainly wasn't. For she had already met hers. And he had met his. And as he gazed lovingly into her eyes, they knew the temptation had been worth it.

~o~

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

I guess the wolf in this story can be several things. A person, fear, a part of growing up. You can see for yourself what fits best.

The ending is open for interpretation as well.


End file.
